


Prelude

by NotPersephone



Series: The Alienist & The Count [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, Doctor/Patient, F/M, First Meetings, bedannibalprompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 18:49:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12087174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotPersephone/pseuds/NotPersephone
Summary: An unexpected letter arrives two days later. The seal on the envelope bares a family crest she has never seen before. Its contents are brief; a request for an appointment from Count Hannibal Lecter.





	Prelude

Even in the growing dark, she is still aware of the stares she attracts. A woman alone in the largest box in the concert hall. Several pairs of eyes followed Bedelia Du Maurier as she made her way up the stairs to her usual seat. One she had frequented at least once a month, always by herself. Lace embroidery covers her black dress, the newest arrival from Paris, but it is modest by comparison to the most attires seen this evening. Her golden hair is pinned up in a wavy bun and a pair of simple gold turquoise earrings adorns her ears. It is the only jewellery she favours, a family heirloom that holds sentimental value to her. It belonged to her grandmother, a woman who is the reason she can disregard the stares of contempt and enjoy her evening as she pleases. A large inheritance allowed her to pursue a carrier of her choosing, even if it is one not recognised by most, and retain her independence. The means were for her use alone and her mother could not stop her from engaging in studies. Nothing could have made her mother more displeased.

Other than perhaps the thought of her daughter alone in a public place, but she will not be witness to that. Her mother would never step foot in the city she perceives as grotesque, dirty and dangerous. The latter has become a reality as of late, but Bedelia is not eager to prove her right.

The orchestra strikes the first chords, the audience falls silent and so do the intrusive thoughts in Bedelia’s mind. The sound of strings announces the Brandenburg Concerto No. 1 and she smiles with content as the music she favours fills the air.

Her peace of mind is short lived as she suddenly feels someone is watching her. She turns her gaze to the stalls below, but everyone’s attention is focused on the stage. Then she looks across the hall and her eyes meet a man in the box opposite her, staring directly at her. A man with sharp features, his eyes appear to be almost black from this distance, but Bedelia is certain it must the trick of the limited light. His stare does not falter; Bedelia finds is very inappropriate, especially for a man who is not alone. The woman who accompanies him can hardly be called a woman yet, it must one of her first social outings. Wearing an extravagant green dress with a bertha neckline, she whispers excitedly into his ear, oblivious to the concert taking place or that her escort’s attention is elsewhere. The man smiles at Bedelia, most ungentlemanly, but she does not return the smile. She holds his gaze for a moment longer before turning her attention back to the orchestra. She will not allow a stranger to disturb her evening.

After the concert ends, she looks over to the other box once more, but the man and his companion are gone. She enquires about the identity of the mysterious man, but none of other patrons seemed to have noticed him. Her curiosity ungratified, she returns home.

Her residence in Cavendish Place lists amongst numerous medical practices in the area, but hers is the only one treating the problems of the mind. And the only one run by a woman.

 

An unexpected letter arrives two days later. The seal on the envelope bares a family crest she has never seen before. Its contents are brief; a request for an appointment from Count Hannibal Lecter. The name is familiar to her, although she personally has not met the man. The news of a mysterious Count had spread like the Great Fire through the London society circles and even Bedelia, who does not encourage hearsay, couldn’t help but learn about it. The last remaining heir of a prominent family from the former Lithuania, not only rich but also handsome and incredible charming, was the most sought-after gentleman at all social soirees. She wonders what issues a man like him would want to discuss with someone like her. It has been awhile since her curiosity was roused from its drowse. She sends a reply later that day, confirming an appointment for the end of the week.

 

The knock on the door takes her by surprise as she has heard no carriage pulling at her door. She turns the lock with a certain nervousness; she has grown unaccustomed to visitors, a sad state of affair.

The tall man in a simple black suit standing at her doorstep takes off his hat. Familiar eyes look at her as she opens the door, only wide enough to see him. The same ones she remembered so well from her night at the concert hall. But they are warm brown now, not black, a trick of light after all. If he recognises her as well, he does not let it show.

“Doctor Du Maurier?” his voice is a smooth baritone with just a hint of an accent.

“Yes,” she stares at the man who had stared at her a mere week ago, what a strange concurrence.

“My name is Hannibal Lecter. I believe you have received my letter.”

“Yes, I have,” she opens the door wider and allows him to enter. The guest follows her silently as she leads him to her office; a spacious room in the back of the house with windows facing the garden for more privacy. Rows of shelves filled with books cover the walls, a large desk is the focus of the room.

“I did not hear you arrive,” she says as she gestures to an empty chair and waits for him to take his seat.

“I walked here,” his eyes follow her as she settles herself behind the desk,” I had a dinner arrangement in the vicinity and it is a pleasant evening.”

 _Dinner_ or courting another debutante, Bedelia keeps her assumption to herself as she can finally take a closer look at her visitor, in a better light than she did before. The rumours were true, he was indeed a very handsome man, a striking smile on his face, one designed to enrapture more susceptible women, his hands resting calmly on his lap.

“It is not safe to walk alone,” she says instead,” not with a murderer at large.”

“Yes, The Ripper. A dreadful affair.”

“I do not believe The Ripper would venture into this part of the city. I was referring to the other killer.”

“The other killer?” Count regards her with fascination, “All the murders were attributed to The Ripper.”

“The last two murders were clearly committed by a different person,” her crystal blue eyes entrap his, as he continues to stare at her. “The last body was found in Kensington. The Ripper had been active only in the impoverished areas.”

There is a slight shift in his eyes, barely noticeable, but it’s there, as though a sudden spark lit up in his mind. It disappears almost as soon as it appears.

“Furthermore, he only targeted women,” Bedelia continues, “The most recent victim was a prominent judge.”

“Did you share your deductions with the Scotland Yard?” he tilts his chin up and his eyes narrow ever so slightly, looking somehow pleased.

“I am not an officer of the law. It is not my place to solve this case,” she responds simply. The conversation seemed to have taken on a life of its own and Bedelia tries to recall when was the last time she shared her thoughts so freely with anyone. An aftereffect of her limited socialising, no doubt. It is hardly professional, she chastises herself and tries to return to the objective of the meeting.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your enquiry?” she asks, reaching for a pen, her notebook at ready.

“I was informed that you are an alienist,” Hannibal replies.

“I prefer the term ‘mental doctor’. I do not stand behind the idea of a mental illness being a separation of mind from one’s body.”

“Do you patients respond better to that title?”

“No, I do not get many enquiries,” she admits, “Women are not willing to openly admit to a problem involving their state of mind out of fear of being incarcerated in bedlam. Men even less so.”

“Why is that?” he seems slightly amused, very unnerving as she does not to wish to be treated like an oddity.

“Do you know the origins of the term ‘hysteria’, Count Lecter?” she asks rather sharply.

“It comes from Greek,” Hannibal replies and looks to her for confirmation.

“That is correct. It means ‘uterus’. That is why women are assumed to be particularly at risk of madness, based on physiological grounds. You can see why people would be wary to have a woman assess their mental state,” Bedelia continues, a look of challenge in her eyes. She had engaged in this conversation more than once and it feels like she’s repeating a rehearsed line.

“But it did not stop you from practising,” Hannibal holds her stare, “You are an intriguing person, Doctor Du Maurier. Just as I anticipated you would, from a moment I saw the way you were carrying yourself in the theatre.”

It is not a chance meeting after all, her irritation rises together with her pulse. She ignores his praise, no doubt meant to serve only one purpose. “Is that why you are here, Count? To seek an interesting conquest to add to your collection?” she is surprised by her own bravado.

“No, that would be greatly disrespectful,” his tone is contrite, but Bedelia is not convinced. False modesty is certainly one of his parlour tricks.

“But I guess we have something in common then,” he says with a sudden twinkle in his eyes.

“And what would that be?” her impatience increases with each word that leaves his lips.

“Penchant for interesting people. Isn’t what you are doing here, Doctor? Looking for compelling people to study?” His assessment is astoundingly correct, but Bedelia says nothing, keeping her composure.

“You still have not told me what brings you here, Count,” she turns the attention back to her visitor.

“Call me Hannibal,” another attempt of a smile which is not acknowledged. Neither is his invitation. He cannot expect them to be _friendly_. She remains silent, waiting for him to continue.

“I have trouble sleeping,” he finally explains after a rather long pause.

“I can prescribe you Paraldehyde, but any medical doctor could do that for you.”

“No, that would not help. I have recurring nightmares. My-,” he hesitates,” My family died in tragic circumstances when I was very young. The nightmares started soon after.” His polished façade is no longer overshadowing his words and the unforeseen honestly is intriguing.

“Do you think there is a connection between your past experiences and the dreams?” she looks at him closely, curiosity suddenly burning hot within her.

“That is what I would like to find out,” he admits, looking at her expectedly.

“Why did you choose to see me?”

“I was looking for someone with an open mind, like yours, Doctor,” his words are sincere and it no longer feels like a cheap attempt of flattery.

Her vexation has long evaporated, leaving only fiery interest. “I will take your case.”

Hannibal smiles again, a different, genuine smile, one not meant for glamour of social elites; she finds it unexpectedly appealing.

“We can arrange to meet once a week,” she makes a note on her pad.

“That sounds wonderful,” a noticeable relief in his voice.

The clock on the wall strikes eight; the hour had passed in a blink of an eye.

“I will see you next week then, _Hannibal_ ,” she says, standing up. He follows her suit and she escorts him to the door.

“I look forward to it,” he puts his hat back on and offers her a nod of his head and a last flash of his smile before leaving.

Glancing through the window, Bedelia watches the enigmatic Count walk away, enveloped by the gathering dusk and the gentle halo of the street lamps. She finds it hard to admit to herself, but she looks forward to seeing him too.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt of an AU. It gave me a chance to combine my love for bedannibal and all things Victorian. I am a bit nervous about it, so feedback is really appreciated.  
> You know where to find me if you have any questions or prompts (bedeliainwonderland on tumblr).


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